Broken Frontier

WARNING:  This thing is loaded with spoilers!

Spider-Man 3 has already been ably reviewed and commented by my colleagues Ryan Burton and JP Dorigo.  I’m here to tell you why I think it was messed up from a theological perspective.

In the first Spider-Man movie, when Peter Parker really starts to come to grips with his new abilities, he sets off across the rooftops with pure exhilaration.  The special effects were really good.  Woo-hoo!  I know I felt it.  But there was a bit of foreshadowing, too, a small uh-oh to remind us that things are never as nice as they first appear.  On a rooftop, Peter sees a spider web woven into a circle of razor wire.  Do you think he saw the crown of thorns, understood its implications?

In Spider-Man 3, Peter gets a big head from all the public adoration.  “Wealth and fame, he’s ignored, action is his reward,” or so the song goes.  But Red Spidey, traditional Spidey, really got into the fame.  He suffered from vanity long before the black goo from outer space consumed him.  And that deadly sin caused him to lose his true reward, Mary Jane Watson. 

Aunt May is the steady moral center of the trilogy.  In Spider-Man 2, while on a visit to Aunt May, Peter learns that Henry, the little boy across the street, wants to be Spider-Man when he grows up.  Peter can’t see why anyone would want to be Spider-Man, and Aunt May explains,

“He knows a hero when he sees one.  Too few characters out there, flying around like that, saving old girls like me.  Lord knows kids like Henry need a hero.  Courageous, self-sacrificing people, setting examples for all of us.  Everybody loves a hero.  People line up for them.  Cheer them.  Scream their names.  And years later, they’ll tell how they stood in the rain for hours, just to get a glimpse of the one who taught them to hold on, a second longer.  I believe there’s a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble, and finally allows us to die with pride, even though sometimes we have to be steady, and give up the thing we want the most, even our dreams.  Spider-Man did that for Henry, and he wonders where he’s gone.  He needs him.”

In Spider-Man 3, Peter humiliates M.J., and then, during the fight that follows, punches her in the face.  It’s at that moment that he sees how empty he is.  He hears a bell tolling, and looks up into the sky at the church spire.  Next thing we know, Black Spidey is far above the city streets, stuck to that spire, lost in thought.  Appearing to reach a decision, he swings down to the belfry, and there Peter begins the fight of his life to shed the black suit, his stain of sin.

Eddie Brock had begged Peter to give him a break.  “You want forgiveness?”  Peter taunted.  “Get religion.”

Now Peter is struggling for that forgiveness, crying out with the effort of freeing himself from the poisonous effects of anger and lust for revenge – more deadly sins.  For now, perhaps Peter thinks he’s got religion.  Later, he’ll realize it was acoustics that freed him.

Far below, Eddie Brock got religion.  He’s alone in a pew in the vast, empty church, praying to Jesus, who he calls Sir.  He tells Jesus quite simply what he wants.  Not forgiveness.  “I want you to kill Peter Parker.”

When Eddie hears Peter’s cries, he investigates, stepping into the bell tower and looking far above to see Peter screaming and fighting and tearing at his skin while the bell tolls its gloomy warning.  Slowly Peter rips the goo away, and the goo slides down the bell tower towards its next victim, Eddie.

Eddie is conveniently standing on a mosaic of a cross, in other words, X marks the spot and Eddie is the chump standing in the path of dripping, oozing, deadly sin.

Later, Peter is still far from reconciled with M.J.  It seems that going to church to cast off your sin is one thing, but redemption does not follow automatically.  It’s Aunt May’s task to help Peter understand what must come next.  Peter confesses, “I hurt her, Aunt May.  I don’t know what to do.”  And Aunt May replies, “You start by doing the hardest thing.  You forgive yourself.”

The climactic action scene turns into one long chain of absolutions.  Bernard helps Harry forgive Peter, and reminds Harry that Peter loves him.  M.J. appears to forgive Peter when he rescues her and lands her safely.  Marko confesses to Peter, and Peter forgives him.  “I’ve done terrible things too,” Peter says, and forgives himself.  Peter apologizes to Harry, “I should never have hurt you, said those things.”  Harry forgives Peter, “None of that matters, Peter.  You’re my friend.”  Only Eddie rejects his shot at redemption, and dies clinging to his gooey sin.

The main problem with all this is, Harry dies, not Peter.  It is Peter whose first real experience of his great powers was overshadowed by a crown of thorns.  It is Peter who is the hero; who, as Aunt May explains, must be courageous and self-sacrificing, making us noble, willing to give up everything.  But it’s Harry who wears the crown, abandoned by his father, tormented and confused by the apparent betrayal of his best friend.  It’s Harry who is willing to give up everything, and dies to save his friends. 

Peter’s reconciliation with M.J., and his sermonizing about choice, all seemed so empty, coming from the one who should have been in the grave.  The star of the movie, Spider-Man, was deprived of his heroism by a script that awarded the honor to the better man. 

It’s too bad that the trilogy ended this way.  I sat all the way through the credits, hoping for a teaser like the one that finished the third X-Men movie.  I wanted to see Harry emerge from the grave, flash us that evil grin, and give that old heroic sacrifice story the poke in the eye it needs.  Sheesh.  We need a fourth film to help us forgive this one.